


Flags

by prairiecrow



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Clothing, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new suit, and a conversation with floral tones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flags

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Flag — a name for a species of iris (iris versicolor), light to deep purple in color.  
> 2) Written for the prompt "Flag" at writers_choice on LJ.  
> 3) Takes place after the S2 episode "The Wire".

Julian Bashir shrugged into the suit's jacket and turned from side to side, surveying himself critically in the fitting room's mirror. "You know, this actually suits me."  
  
He could see Garak's face reflected over his shoulder, his grey lips curved in a smug little smile. "Much better than those unfortunate combinations of purple and orange you usually insist on wearing, I daresay."  
  
" _This_  is purple." He tugged on the jacket's cuffs, admiring the thin edge of brilliant white shirt that flashed beneath them. "It reminds me of a type of flower in my father's garden back on Earth, actually, when I was growing up — he called them flags, but they were really a species of iris. Very pretty, anyway."  
  
Garak refused to be diverted. "Yes, but it's  _all_  purple of related deep tones, with flashings of royal blue. Extremely fetching, if I do say so myself. It complements your caramel skin marvellously."  
  
Julian couldn't suppress a fond smile of his own. "Caramel, coffee, toast, honey… you always describe me in terms of things to eat."  
  
The friendly gleam in Garak's blue eyes became considerably hotter. "Perhaps that's because you're so delectable, my dear."  
  
"Mm." Memories of the previous night, of opening and kissing and licking and savouring, brought a slight blush to his cheeks. "Look who's talking."  
  
"Oh, but I'm certainly not irresistible, not the way you are." He stepped forward as Julian came back to fully facing himself in the mirror, to pluck at the suit's shoulders and waist and hips with a tailor's professional touch, checking the fit. "So slim and sweet." Stepping back again, he looked Julian up and down and seemed satisfied with what he saw. "No, I think 'astringent' would be a far better descriptor in my case."  
  
"Or 'invigorating'," Julian suggested, still tinted faintly rose. "Like dark chocolate."  
  
The Cardassian shrugged. "Perhaps. You would know better than I."  
  
Julian extended his arms slightly from his sides, the better to appreciate the tailored fabric and skillful colors that sheathed him like a full-body embrace. "I know that this suit is gorgeous, and that I should never doubt you when you offer to design something especially for me."  
  
Their eyes met in the mirror, communicating affection and desire and gratitude, and pleasure in this moment of shared beauty, and for a naked instant there were no lies between them. When Garak spoke his voice was gentle but chiding. "My dear Doctor, if you didn't know that before we became entangled, I'm afraid I must abandon all hope for you."  
  
Comfortable familiar banter, and Julian answered in kind. "I was entangled with you from the moment you introduced yourself in the Replimat — and I wouldn't be so quick to give up on me. Didn't you once tell me that patience has its rewards?"  
  
"Well, you certainly made me wait long enough before giving yourself to me."  
  
"Before giving myself what I really wanted, you mean." He turned around to face the spy, stepping up to him and laying one hand to his cool cheek, smiling with unabashed joy. "Thank you, Elim."  
  
"A pleasure, Julian. As always." Finally his hands came to rest on Julian's hips, and after a moment he leaned forward slightly to touch forehead to forehead, a gesture of Cardassian intimacy as tender as a kiss. "And let me assure you, no flower that blooms could ever look as exquisitely and effortlessly lovely as you."  
  
THE END


End file.
